A Game in the Dark
Samuel woke up in the hall, but he didn’t think much of it; he sleepwalked every other day. He looked out his peephole first, as per his usual routine. Instead of seeing Sarah heading for her run, he saw her crying form surrounded by police officers.
Half an hour later, he was in trial for the murder of Sarah’s husband, Victor Vans.
12 hours earlier
Samuel focused on the slightly distorted image of Victor and Sarah entering the apartment just opposite from his. As their door shut, he leaned away from his own, wondering for the millionth time why he tortured himself every day.
Before his thoughts turned dark, he busied himself with his chores. Every day, he had the same routine. He’d get up from whichever part of the apartment he was in and watch her going for a run. He’d shower, before spying her arrival. After breakfast, he’d watch her head to work. At night, he’d stay plastered to the door with one eye shut until she returned.
After hours of tossing and turning, he fell into a troubled sleep.
Samuel couldn’t deny any of the pieces of evidence, not when they were clearly against him. They had found Sarah’s pictures on his phone, his fingerprints on the gun, and a strand of his hair in Sarah and Victor’s bedroom.
He was uncertain of what he felt. How was one supposed to feel when they learned that they had murdered someone at the dead of the night but had no recollection of it? Disgust? Shame? Denial? Guilt?
With more courage than he knew he was capable of, he let go of denial and prayed for forgiveness. His head was hung low, while a couple of blocks away, Sarah congratulated herself for a game well played.